


The Killjoys

by Jujux



Series: Of Men and Gods [1]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, R Plus L Equals J
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-27
Updated: 2019-05-27
Packaged: 2020-03-20 09:35:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18990019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jujux/pseuds/Jujux
Summary: Ser Alliser was never good at meeting new people...





	The Killjoys

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, this is a repost with only slight changes from the original and it serves as a prologue for the main story called "Of Men and Gods".
> 
> I will slowly start reposting the main story too. It will have some changes here and there and more POVs and characters added compared to the original, but the plot will mostly stay the same.

 

#### 

THE FROZEN FLAIL - CASTLE BLACK

 

“A fucking boar! Hahahahaha!” He took another swing of ale. The Others take him, he couldn’t remember the last time he was so happy!

Half a day ago news from King’s Landing came about the death of Robert Baratheon. He’s been drinking and celebrating ever since and he’s been giddier than a stupid maiden watching handsome Knights competing at her first tourney!

Most fuckers out there were starting to look at him like he was mad. The little shits! Even Miss Piggy. He must remember to reward the fat fucker tomorrow in training.

So he moved his celebration on the top of the Wall. Nobody was bothering him here. “A fucking boar!”

The greatest warrior in the realm, The Demon of the Trident, slain by a fucking boar! Hahahaha! And the best thing was that he was killed under the watch of that traitorous cunt, Ser Barristan! Hahahaha!

By the Gods, that almost made the years he spent in this God forsaken place worth it! Almost.

If he was free, he would have changed the House Thorne sigil to a fucking boar. A boar charging a fucking black stag.

“A fucking boar!” he shouted from the top of the Wall again, so that even the wildlings and the Others themselves could laugh at the Baratheon cunt.

Fuck. His ale was all gone. Fuck. Now he had to go down and refill it. He shouldn’t have been drinking on top of the Wall. Fuck. But this was the only place where he could express his happiness, without everyone looking at him like he was mad. No, it was fucking worth it.

Fuck. He wobbly made his way to the cage and waited for it to reach the ground.

 

As he was heading towards the pantry to refill his jug with ale, the fucking sound of the horn from the gate startled him. Fuck. Unfortunately, he was walking over a patch of ice at that very moment and found himself losing his balance and unceremoniously falling on his back.

Fuck.

He remembered that the Mummer’s Monkey was on gate duty today. The fucker surely did it on purpose, just to startle him. Alliser could see him now, laughing at him with Auroch, Miss Piggy and his other cunt friends. Fuck. He would show that cunt what happens when they play with him. He was an anointed Knight, not some green boy that they could make fun of! He would shove that fucking horn down his ass, then have Miss Piggy blow it until his balls were the size of his empty head.

Fuck. Now if he could only get up. Fucking ice! He was like a fucking cockroach. A big black drunk cockroach standing on his back, struggling to turn around. 

He heard the gate opening and some people and carts coming in. Fuck. He tried to look up and see who it was, but his head was spinning and his vision was blurry. He might have imbibed a bit too much ale.

Fuck.

It didn’t matter anyway, they were probably just some Ham Lords who brought their own food so that they wouldn’t starve here. The fuckers. They haven’t got a decent new recruit in ten years.

“Are you all right, My Lord?” he heard a calm voice, with an accent he couldn’t place ask. “Do you need any help?”

Fortunately, this fucker came forward and he could see him. A lean lad, with dark hair and dark eyes. Alliser couldn’t help thinking that he looked very familiar. He thought he saw him before, but it was hardly possible since the lad wasn’t more than thirteen or fourteen. Perhaps he knew his father or older brother?

It didn’t matter anyway, the lad was a fucking madman. He was dressed like it was fucking summer. It was so cold at the Wall that icicles were growing from your balls and this fucker only wore a black gambison and a thin fucking cape over his back. No furs, nothing.

It figured! Fat men, criminals, farmers, and madmen, that’s all they got these days! And he was the one that had to train them and show them how to stay alive. Fuck. At least he won’t have to bother with this pretty boy, the cold would surely slay him long before he had to start the training.

“Take my hand, My Lord,” the lad spoke again, in an even voice and offered his hand.

The nerve of this fucker! “Fuck off, pretty boy!” he growled and tried to smack his hand away. Unfortunately, his aim wasn’t the best and he only hit the air. Or perhaps the little cunt just dodged.

Fuck.

He was struggling to get up and teach the fucker some manners when a large boot found its way on his chest, making his struggles useless. Fuck. He was about to release a whole clan of ‘fuck’ related words towards the cunt that was growing from the boot when he realized that he was the largest man he ever saw. Fuck. Even in his inebriated state, he realized that it was probably better to keep his fucking mouth shut. 

Fuck.

The large copper-skinned man holding him down grunted something in a language he didn’t understand, then pointed towards the dark-haired lad and started to slowly draw a long thin dagger with a silver pommel molded in form of some beast he couldn't recognize from his belt. Fuck. He was so drunk and perhaps a little scared too that he didn’t even remember on which side of his hip he wore his sword on. 

Fuck.

Many times he said that he would gladly welcome death, rather than spend more time in this frozen hell. But now, seeing that his life was most likely going to end, he suddenly found himself quite fond of the snow and cold. 

Fuck.

“Leave him be, Leg, he’s always been a cunt,” he heard an amused familiar voice that he couldn’t place say. “He just can’t help himself.” Alliser knew that voice, he was sure of it, but from where? Fuck. He wished he hadn’t imbibed so much today. He tried to have a look at the man, but his blurry vision wouldn’t cooperate. ”He’s probably soiled his breeches already,” the amused voice continued.

The beast of a man stopped drawing his dagger and looked at the pretty boy who gave him a small nod and, to Alliser’s immense relief, released him. The other man was right, he did soil his breeches. His ale filled bladder couldn’t handle the scare.

Fuck.

The foot was no longer on his chest, but he didn’t dare move. Fortunately, Miss Piggy came just then: “The Lord Commander and Maester Aemon are ready to receive you now, My Lords.” And to his relief all the newcomers left to meet the two, leaving him to his struggles.

 

* * *

 

The next day, as he woke up with a huge hangover, he thought again about what happened last night. The amused voice, he knew it, he was sure of it. The annoyance he felt when he heard it was quite familiar.

Then it hit him. No wonder that the voice annoyed him so. It was the bane of his existence back in his days in King’s Landing. Oswell Whent.

But that was not possible, was it? And if Oswell was alive, that lad was… 

FUCK!!!


End file.
